Bio

Paul d Miller stopped having periods and became an old fat man with a beard sometime in between the releases of his first two novels. He’s gone on to learn three rolls on the banjo, switched to Irish whiskey, moved to Bumfuck, Alabama, and taken to eating at Cracker Barrel on rainy Saturday mornings.

His wife’s still too good for him, his cat’s still an asshole, and his daughter ain’t never gonna go a day without being the most loved thing in all creation.

There is no cure for any of that.